 | Lays of France |  |
But he who had all sweet
Latest and longest of her,—day
And night and many a year he lay,
Enthralled, past knowing cold or heat
Or hearing thunder or the feet
Of armies, in a long deep dream
Of her sweet body, full of joy
And magical amaze and gleam
Of endless excellence: there nought
Might reach his spirit or destroy
Its passionate raptures of long thought,
—Save only if, beneath God's sky,
One other creature should draw nigh
To touching her whom his soul bought.
Latest and longest of her,—day
And night and many a year he lay,
Enthralled, past knowing cold or heat
Or hearing thunder or the feet
Of armies, in a long deep dream
Of her sweet body, full of joy
And magical amaze and gleam
108
Might reach his spirit or destroy
Its passionate raptures of long thought,
—Save only if, beneath God's sky,
One other creature should draw nigh
To touching her whom his soul bought.
| Lays of France | |